Oh, Mr. Porter, whatever shall I do?
I want to go to Birmingham, but they've sent me on to Crewe!
Taking
its name from an absurd little 1920s ditty, this book was one of the
small pile I read during the October readathon. It's stayed with me
since as the protagonist's plight is a peculiar kind of nightmare and
there is just as much humour in it as there is horror.
When
her father dies, Denham Dobie, a rather selfish, very uneducated
teenager who has been raised in the hills of Andalucia, is hauled back
to London by relatives she's never met before. Aunt Evelyn and her three
grown up children take her silent lack of interest in other people or
the world around her as something that can be shocked out of her
extended exposure to 'society' and set about trying to make her one of
them. Soon she is trapped in the hectic whirl of their society life and
longing to escape.
The
Greshams do everything they can to get this wayward relative to 'buck
up' but she thinks books are silly and boring, hates dinner parties and
just won't make the effort to fit in. Time and again she talks about
barometers instead of baronets and baffles those around her. There's an
element of relief when Arnold becomes interested in Denham and seems
intrigued by the prospect of a wife more interested in sailing paper
boats than clothes shopping. The problem is that Denham isn't really cut
out to be a wife to anyone, Arnold is a writer who needs support in his
attempts to get his debut novel published and of course, now she's
married a man who's friends with the Greshams she'll never escape
them...
"This
bright, finished, gay, polite family, so merry, so chattering, so
friendly, so kind, so expensively neat - what was she among them? A cold
kind of wary doubt, like an animal's, fought in her with adventurous
doubt. One was trapped by such desires into intimacies closer than one's
sober self approved."
(page 35)
Oh,
poor Denham. She is ignorant, willfully ignorant and horribly lazy and
selfish... but she really does just want to be left alone. Her ideal
life would be like something in an Enid Blyton children's book - full of
boating on the sea and picnics and running away from adults. Crewe Train,
a rather odd title for this book at first glance, is actually rather
accurate when you understand the rhyme and watch the Greshams from her
perspective.
I
do wonder about the strength of the story though, it felt like Macaulay
had pulled her punches too often. Narrating it as Denham allowed her to
mock the Greshams and all they represent but, since Macaulay is
definitely not one of the Denhams of the world, she can't help making
Denham an unbelievably exaggerated caricature. In amongst all the witty
barbs about social rules and pretended amazement about why anyone would
write another book when there's already so many unread ones in the world
there's an equal amount of laughing at Denham's desire for a husband
who doesn't want to talk about love or enjoying the childish pleasures
of secret tunnels in the cliffs.
This
switching of perspective and punchlines does keep the reader
entertained but it also limits the impact of the book significantly. It
keeps Denham firmly in the reader's mind as a difficult, childish
character and the Greshams as just misguided but ultimately lovely which
blunts a lot of the barbs. It keeps the story in the camp of 'nice' and
'gentle' rather than 'biting' and 'satire'.
There
is fine writing here and I can't wait to read more of Macaulay to get a
better understanding of her work, but for me this particular book is
let down by too many polite retractions and a weak ending.
3 comments:
I agree the book is more nice and gentle than biting satire, but I liked Denham quite a lot maybe because I can identify a bit with here. I know people like the Greshams for whom things are done just so because that's the way they are supposed to be done and it really drives me a bit nutty. I loved Denham's cave and would completely enjoy sitting in it with her. maybe that says more about me than it does the book! :)
I think there must be aspect of Macaulay in Denham, but it sounds like she herself was much more like one of the Greshams. She certainly poked gentle fun at both groups--not such a biting satire, but gently amusing. I loved her last line of the book and wondered just what sort of a mother she would have made! I'm also looking forward to reading more of her work--she seems like she was an interesting woman.
Nice summary; I also tended to identify with Denham as I cannot bear to be made to do things just because everyone else is doing them. Usually, though, those things are outdoors-y, so I couldn't go the whole hog and really get behind her point of view. But I did appreciate the very different sort of woman she was, compared to the 'average' of her time (whether that's a Gresholm or not, I couldn't say for sure). Comparing it to the other books from this time that I've been reading lately, it seems to me that gentle satire was very much in fashion. It has made me curious to know more about Rose Macaulay, though!
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